


Your Worst Enemy

by Habren



Series: Say Something [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, a ton of smut really, still literally contemplative smut, unsuspecting sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29639421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Habren/pseuds/Habren
Summary: This is a sequel to "I Need You to Hate Me," and it takes place about a year after the events in that story. Harry and Ginny join them for dinner, and Black Manor has some stuff to say about Hermione and Narcissa.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Series: Say Something [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2177850
Comments: 31
Kudos: 133





	Your Worst Enemy

**Author's Note:**

> So I was done with this story, but Phoenix Granger-Black offered such an interesting suggestion that I couldn't resist following up on it. Fair warning, this is mostly smut. 
> 
> I hope CarolCunha7 will enjoy this piece as well. 
> 
> Now all of you, stop giving me prompts and ideas. I got essays to grade and all. 
> 
> EM: You're to blame for this as well.  
> TT: Thanks for your willingness to read everything I write. Thank you for being so thorough, even though that always leads to more work for me. You can all thank T for catching some terrible typos, and for the entire last section.   
> BG: No. That would be a no.

Hermione had finished work late, and so she was rushing through the last preparations for their dinner with Harry and Ginny.

Narcissa had been tinkering in her potions lab most of the day, something about an inspiration she had in the shower. She was sure to tell Hermione all about it later.

They met with Harry and Ginny every other Friday night, taking turns hosting the dinners. Harry once joked it was Hermione’s way of recreating the infamous ministry parties that thankfully ceased six months ago.

Narcissa and she had had a bit of an argument the day before that had been resolved in the most delightful of ways, but that had also left Hermione sore all day. She’d been meaning to take a potion for it, but she hadn’t found the time so far, and she didn’t really mind the memory of the previous evening either.

Right when she finished, Harry and Ginny arrived, which coincided with Narcissa leaving their bedroom and, as so often, the sight of the blonde witch derailed Hermione’s train of thought. It was a true hardship to be in a relationship with someone so attractive.

Narcissa chuckled, stepped up next to Hermione and kissed her temple, which did not calm Hermione down, as it prompted her mind to flash back to the night before, which had started in the study and ended in their bedroom in the early morning hours.

“Your thoughts are terribly loud again, dear,” Narcissa murmured before opening the door to greet their guests.

***

After dinner, they made the mistake of asking their guests to the study since Narcissa had promised to share an old report about the most poisonous natural potions with Ginny, who needed it for her internship.

Harry and Hermione were chatting about work and Ron’s mishap with his new girlfriend, while Narcissa, sitting on the window seat next to one temperamental full-length mirror, went over the report with Ginny.

Harry was about to sit down in an armchair when the mirror, or Narcissa’s reflection in the mirror, cleared her throat. “I wouldn’t sit there if I were you.”

Aghast, Narcissa and Hermione’s gazes shot to the mirror before eying each other, both arriving at the same conclusion. They needed to get them out of here. Fast.

“Oh, you have one of those hexed mirrors. I’ve only ever seen them at Hogwarts,” Harry said, delighted, and stepped up closer to the mirror. “What’s wrong with that chair? Is it hexed, too? Dumbledore took me to Slughorn’s place in sixth year, and Horace had turned himself into an armchair. Or was it a sofa? This isn’t a person, right?”

“No, no, Harry. Come on, let’s go to the living room and—”

“It’s not a person, you imbecile,” the mirror said, still as Narcissa’s reflection, though a haughty and arrogant version of her lover. Maybe it was imprinted in the past because Hermione surely remembered a Narcissa who resembled the mannerism of the reflection.

“Then what’s wrong with it?” Harry asked. By now, Ginny had trod closer to the mirror, too, while the real Narcissa pinched the bridge of her nose.

“It has a terrible attitude,” Narcissa said, glaring at the mirror.

Her reflection remained unfazed and waved her off. “You mean like Hermione had last night after that stunt you pulled during her meeting with the minister?”

“That’s enough,” Narcissa snapped, rising to her feet. “We should relocate this conversation.”

“You should’ve relocated screwing like billywigs to your bedroom last night and spared me the agony of having to listen to you two going at it for hours.”

Hermione once again wondered if it was possible to die of embarrassment, and she couldn’t decide which one of them wore the color red better or more intensely. Even Narcissa’s pale features spotted a pink hue.

Ginny recovered the fastest and started laughing. “Oh, Merlin, this is priceless.”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks for the warning, I suppose,” he addressed the mirror.

“You’re welcome, dear,” Narcissa’s reflection replied, offering a smug smile toward the real Narcissa.

“Why on earth would you do that here, though?” Ginny asked.

“Gin,” Harry said, clearing his throat.

“Or do you like performing in front of an audience?” She laughed while Harry groaned.

Hermione, whose facial capillaries had just relaxed, flamed up once more. “It wasn’t exactly planned,” she mumbled.

Ginny sighed. “Those are the best moments.”

“All right, Narcissa, didn’t you say something about relocating to the living room?” Harry asked.

“Yes, please follow me,” she said and threw a poisonous scowl at the mirror before they all rushed out of the room.

“Sure, leave me here alone,” the mirror called after them.

After a few awkward moments, they’d moved passed the events in the study and enjoyed the rest of their evening. Once Harry and Ginny headed back home, Hermione turned to Narcissa.

“You are aware that Ginny will _never_ let me live that down. Why didn’t you remember the mirror?”

“I’m sure you’ll survive it. You didn’t recall either. Never mind whose fault it was yesterday.”

“Uh, yours. I distinctly remember you started everything.”

“Oh? Shall we revisit last night?”

Hermione grinned. “In the mind or in the flesh?”

“You’re terrible.”

“That’s not what you said last night,” Hermione said, and Narcissa rolled her eyes.

***

The Previous Evening

Hermione rushed into the study and slammed the door shut behind her. “I can’t believe you did this,” she hissed, stalking toward Narcissa, who sat curled up in a comfortable leather armchair with a book in her hand and reading glasses on top of her nose.

Some of Hermione's anger fled at the sight of Narcissa. She didn’t understand why this attire, comfortable, loose clothing, a flowing bun and reading glasses did her in, but it did every time. This time notwithstanding, at least until she noticed a small, but smug smile spread across the blonde witch’s features.

Hermione gritted her teeth.

“I do not know what you’re talking about, dear,” Narcissa said and placed her book on the side table.

“Oh, that’s how you want to play it?”

“Play what?”

Hermione narrowed her eyes. “I never should have let you teach me legilimency.”

Narcissa laughed. “As if you ever could resist knowledge.”

“That’s hardly the point. You knew this was an important meeting and—”

“But you hate your meetings with Shacklebolt. You always complain about how boring they are.”

“Yes, so when I turned crimson and started sweating, the minister noticed that something was off!”

Narcissa held back a chuckle.

“It’s not funny!” Hermione said and pulled at the neck of her robe, untying its suffocating hold of her. “He thought I was sick and asked where we store our fever potions.”

“How very kind of him,” Narcissa said, taking off her glasses and placing them on top of her book. 

“He just left. He said I should lie down and get some rest, and that you should take good care of me.” Hermione shrugged off her robe.

“I was under the impression that I was doing just that?”

“By sending me visions of you sitting on my face while I was discussing curses with the minister of magic? Mental,” Hermione huffed.

“Turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?”

“How many times do I have to tell you that I didn’t know or realize that Draco was with you that time?”

“Either way, it’s not like you’ve ever complained about the… images I’ve sent you before.”

Hermione cleared her throat. “The visions themselves are not the problem, and you know that.”

“Then what is the problem, dear?”

“That you’re not doing something about it.” As soon as those words left her mouth, Narcissa grabbed her arm and pulled her close before connecting their lips in a hungry kiss.

Narcissa’s cold hands were a relief on her overheated skin when the blonde witch trailed them under her shirt and up her back.

Hermione arched into her and pushed Narcissa back so she could easily climb on top of her.

Narcissa panted and broke the kiss. “The images got me in trouble as well,” she sighed before drawing Hermione’s lower lip into her mouth.

Hermione groaned before pushing Narcissa back against the chair. “I believe it. Merlin, the sounds you were making,” she said and rocked against Narcissa. She sat up straighter for a moment to pull off her shirt and bra. “Merlin, this is taking too long. May I use magic?” Right as she finished that sentence, cool air hit her nude body, and she shivered at the feeling of Narcissa’s naked form below her.

“I love it when you use wandless, silent magic,” Hermione breathed.

“I know,” Narcissa muttered before claiming another kiss.

Hermione could drown in the way Narcissa kissed. Her mouth tasted sweet and her tongue seemed to have studied every move that turned Hermione into a sopping mess of desire. Once their lips were bruised and swollen, Narcissa broke the kiss and instead licked and nuzzled Hermione’s neck.

Both women held on tightly, the sound of their breathing rang harshly as their sweat soaked bodies undulated in the armchair.

Not to be outdone from earlier, Hermione moaned and imagined herself pushing three fingers inside Narcissa’s heat, calling forth the sensation of Narcissa’s walls sucking her in deeper and pulsing. She remembered the wet, soft heat that would surround her fingers and a sense of triumph tangled with her arousal when Narcissa shuddered and whimpered in response.

***

Narcissa refused to allow Hermione to enjoy the upper hand for long, and after only a heartbeat, she conjured up the vision of Hermione sitting in her chair in the study, her legs spread, head flung back against the backrest, with her spine arched and butt almost slipping off the chair while Narcissa kneeled in front of her, her face buried in Hermione’s heat. The vision intensified the sounds and smells and left Hermione helpless and awash with the noise of Narcissa drinking in her arousal, and the hunger and desire that spread through her lover at the heat and flavor she experienced while pleasuring Hermione.

Narcissa chuckled when Hermione’s body quaked and a choked sob fell from her lips. Her nimble fingers trailed low and disappeared between Hermione’s legs. She groaned at the wetness she encountered, spreading it liberally between Hermione’s folds and dipping back down to her entrance.

Narcissa splayed one hand on Hermione’s back to steady her as she pushed inside her and swallowed the shout that escaped from the dark-haired witch’s lips. She kissed her hard, drawing Hermione’s tongue into her mouth and massaging it with her own while accelerating the strokes of her fingers.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Narcissa’s neck, pulling her tighter.

The sounds of Hermione panting and her tiny whimpers right next to her ear, along with the hot breath that skittered over her skin, threatened to overwhelm Narcissa. She pulled her fingers out to a whimper fleeing Hermione’s lips, and instead, she sought and found the straining, pulsing nub between her legs. She loved the velvety feel of Hermione’s wetness and could spend an eternity making love to her. Narcissa relayed that information to Hermione as well, and the short spasms that shook Hermione’s frame along with the accompanying drawn-out moan made Narcissa’s stomach drop, and more liquid gathered between her legs.

On a whim, she pushed that very sensation into Hermione’s mind which resulted in a sharp intake of breath, hips canting down hard into Narcissa’s hand who increased the pressure and speed of the quick circles her finger painted over Hermione’s straining clit, only to have her lover arrest in mid-motion before trembling took hold, making way to tremors and a rapid quaking as her release tore through her frame, along with an almost anguished sob spilling from her lips. Narcissa kissed Hermione’s temple, guiding her through a series of aftershocks.

A moment of stillness stretched between the lovers where Narcissa stroked lazy circles over Hermione’s back before a chuckle vibrated through the room.

“That was exactly what I needed,” Hermione sighed before turning her head and kissing Narcissa. “Though now I have to decide what to do with you.”

“Oh?”

“I’m partial to the last fantasy you showed me, with a role reversal, of course.”

Narcissa couldn’t prevent the tremor that traveled through her body at Hermione’s words.

“You like that idea as well,” Hermione mouthed while sliding off the chair and onto her knees.

Narcissa groaned but allowed Hermione to spread her legs and tug her forward.

Hermione bent forward and blew warm air against the heat between her legs.

Narcissa moaned and spread her legs further, creating more space for Hermione to settle.

“I cannot explain how much I love the way you taste,” Hermione muttered and arousal coiled low in Narcissa’s stomach.

She tightened her hold on the arm rest of the chair, her knuckles paling.

Hermione nuzzled the skin of Narcissa’s inner thighs before sucking the flesh into her mouth.

Narcissa trembled. She attempted to hurry her along by projecting her urgency into Hermione’s mind, only to encounter a barrier.

“Nope. I won’t let you distract me from taking my time,” Hermione whispered with a small smile and continued to lick and suck along Narcissa’s inner thighs, shifting from one to the other and back.

Narcissa could have wept, both at the arousal that seemed to tear her apart but also at the sheer unfairness that while Hermione could block Narcissa, she still hadn’t found a way to keep the dark-haired witch’s thoughts out of her mind.

One of these days, she would… All thoughts fled her brain and a sound she’d never made before or recognized tumbled from her lips, an odd mixture between a shout, a sob, and a whimper that unsurprisingly did interesting things to Hermione, judging by the blinding, aching wall of naked desire that slammed into Narcissa from the dark-haired witch and caused Hermione to speed up her hot tongue. A tongue that licked up Narcissa’s length only to avoid her clit and instead returned to her entrance, pushing inside before shifting to draw Narcissa’s lips into Hermione’s mouth. She sucked on them and Narcissa shook.

Two fingers joined Hermione’s tongue and teased her entrance but didn’t push inside. They played in her wetness while Hermione’s tongue, mercifully, moved higher and circled an area that ached and seemed swollen to an almost painful intensity.

“Please,” Narcissa whispered, her fingers digging into the fabric of the arm rest.

Hermione’s gaze flickered up and caught Narcissa’s, undoubtedly taking in her flushed face and loosened strands of hair that clung to her face. Her chest heaved and tension wrought her body to the breaking point. Holding her gaze, Hermione lowered her mouth and sucked Narcissa into her mouth.

Narcissa’s mouth fell open, and she arched her back, no sound spilled forth at first as her brain tried to process the explosion of pleasure that ripped through her at the touch and pressure of Hermione’s tongue gliding through her heat, zeroing in on her clit, covering it with pressure and heated strokes while two fingers massaged the skin around her entrance before pushing inside and curling up.

Narcissa’s eyes fluttered closed, and a scream echoed through the room when her body stilled for the fraction of a second before seizing in an almost violent spasm as her orgasm tore through her. Her vision blurred and for a moment, she thought she saw stars or flashing lights before Hermione crawled up her body and covered her trembling and quivering form with warmth.

***

“You should be careful with what memory you call forth, dear,” Narcissa said, breathing as hard as Hermione was in front of her.

“Yeah, that’s... that’s a good point.”

“Remember that potion idea from this morning?”

“Huh?”

“I told you I wouldn’t tell you what it’s for until I am done, and once I made sure it works and is safe.”

Hermione frowned. “OK?”

“Perhaps it’s better I showed you?”

“Sure. I thought it was work related and—”

Narcissa laughed. “Oh, no dear. It was inspired by that comment you made in the early morning hours last night, or today, technically.”

“Wait... oh!” Hermione exclaimed and her eyelids fluttered. “Really?”

“Mmhmm,” Narcissa said. “Would you like to retire to our bedroom?”

Hermione grinned, took Narcissa’s hand and together they ambled ahead.

Narcissa disappeared in their bathroom before returning with a potion vial filled with a pink colored liquid. One of her more brilliant inventions, and she could hardly wait to explore this further with Hermione. The comment from the dark-haired witch this morning had made her laugh at first, but once she stood in the shower, the imagery refused to leave her mind, and once her arousal had simmered down again, the inspiration for this potion had formed.

“That’s it?” Hermione asked.

“Yes.”

“So, what... does it... you know, what I said, it’ll make that happen?”

“Yes, dear. The contrast between the things you say to me in bed and what you’re incapable of stating any other time continues to astound me.”

Hermione groaned. “Yes, yes. Give me the potion.”

“So you’re still interested?”

Hermione raised her eyebrows and held out her hand. “You bet. Besides, I don’t think I should be the only one who is sore today.”

“If you insist,” Narcissa said, handing Hermione the vial, who promptly uncorked it and swallowed it in one big gulp. 

“How long until... oh,” Hermione ground out and shuddered. 

“Instantaneously,” Narcissa replied with a smile, her gaze dropping to Hermione’s lap. 

“That’s... intense,” Hermione shifted and rearranged her seated position on the bed. “Wait. How did you make sure it was safe?”

“I obviously tried it myself.”

Hermione pouted. “Without me?”

“How else could I have made sure it works? Besides, didn’t you complain about being sore?”

“True.”

Narcissa waved her hand to undress both of them before leaning forward and kissing Hermione. “Do you think you’re up for it?” She asked. 

“Oh, I’m up for it, all right. The question is, are you?” Hermione said and flipped them around, stretching out on top of Narcissa. 

“We shall see,” Narcissa said, and connecting their lips, she reached down and cupped Hermione between her legs. 

***

“Fuck,” Hermione hissed as soon as Narcissa touched her, gently stroking up and down her length. 

“That’s the idea, dear,” Narcissa breathed and lifted her head to suck on Hermione’s throat. 

“This is... You need to stop, or I’ll come from that alone.”

“So? This is a part of you, just transformed. You won’t have the same performance issues men face.”

“That’s... good to... know,” Hermione stammered, feeling lightheaded. “There’s no chance of...” Failing to form coherent sentences, she sent her question to Narcissa’s mind. 

“No. You can’t get me pregnant, though we might be able to change that if you’re interested.”

Hermione groaned when Narcissa tightened her grip and picked up the speed of her strokes. 

“But let’s shelf that question for another time.”

Hermione nodded, her grasp on Narcissa tightened and she bent her head forward, unable to do anything but thrust her hips in the rhythm Narcissa set. Her back seized and her stomach tightened. “Are you sure I can still...”

“Yes, dear,” Narcissa muttered into Hermione’s ear. “Coming now won’t stop you from fucking me right after.” 

Hermione moaned and her hips jerked forward, she shuddered as her orgasm washed over her. 

Panting, Hermione raised herself up on her forearms. She shook her head at Narcissa’s pleased smile, though she also registered the tightness in her expression that spoke of her own arousal. 

Hermione lifted her right arm and sought the heat between Narcissa’s legs. 

Narcissa hissed at the contact. 

“I don’t think we need further lubrication,” she said, and pushed two fingers inside, bending down and licking into Narcissa’s mouth. 

Narcissa moaned and rocked her hips.

Impatient, Hermione removed her fingers and instead shifted to align herself with Narcissa’s entrance. “You’re OK with this? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m not made of glass,” Narcissa pressed out, her hand snaking between Hermione’s legs, who trembled when Narcissa grasped her and pulled her forward, pushing the tip inside, causing a low moan to spill from both witches. 

“That’s good to know,” Hermione whimpered and with a languid push of her hips entered Narcissa fully. 

The blonde witch groaned, and her hands flew to Hermione’s butt, pulling her closer. “You need to move,” she mouthed, initiating a sloppy kiss. 

“I’m adjusting to... Oh, Merlin,” Hermione cried and fell forward when Narcissa squeezed her from the inside. “That’s not fair. I wanted... to savor the... feeling of being... inside.”

“There’s more time for that later. I’ve had visions of you doing this in my head all day long, and then you projected last night into my head,” Narcissa almost growled. 

Hermione struggled to form words or to do anything but drown in the liquid arousal drumming through her veins, but her desire to please Narcissa aided in finding her focus. She kissed Narcissa while slowly pumping her hips and groaned when Narcissa sunk her nails into the flesh of her ass, scratching up her back. 

“Faster,” she demanded. 

Beads of sweat trailed down Hermione’s back and face, but she held on and increased the speed of her hips rocking into Narcissa. The pressure between her legs built along with the tension growing in her lower stomach. 

Narcissa panted and shook under her, and the heat and wetness that engulfed Hermione along with the little whimpers and breathless sighs from Narcissa devoured what was left of Hermione’s senses. Her hips crashed into Narcissa, who seemed delighted by the change of pace. 

Approaching her limit, Hermione reached between them and clumsily stroked over the blonde witch’s clit. Thankfully, Narcissa was so aroused that no finesse was necessary, and after a few strokes, both women arched and arrested in a thunderous climax. 

“This might be my favorite potion ever,” Hermione mouthed breathlessly into Narcissa’s neck, who laughed and kissed her forehead. 

“Glad you approve, though I feel like a shower is in order.”

Hermione groaned. “Let me rest for a minute, woman. We hardly slept last night.”

“Hmm, and who’s the younger one again?”

Hermione swatted Narcissa’s arm but allowed the blonde witch to wiggle out of bed and pull her to her feet. 

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I appreciate your comments and feedback. I can also be reached at habren@rocketmail.com


End file.
